Nobody Knew
by Moria Polonius
Summary: On the first day of the new term we find out something about the Potions Master. Something nobody knew or would suspect. Snape as a family man? Happy, cosy life? Not for him...
1. Part One

**Nobody Knew**

**Part One**

***

Hogwarts Express was less crowded than the year before it seemed to Hermione, as it sprung to mind as her first thought when she begun searching for her friends. Less first-years, she noted absently. With Voldemort's return many parents were afraid of letting their children go from under their personal care - even if Hogwarts was the safest place to be. Some other students left too, particualry some Slytherins. 

She found Harry and Ron in a corridor of the train, as they were looking for her too. Chatting and greeting each other happily, the three of them decided to look for an empty compartment. 

Looking through the train, suddenly Harry stopped, while Hermione and Ron peered over his shoulder to see the problem. He gestured to the girl, sitting all alone. It was a new face, a first-year presumably. 

"Poor kid," Harry muttered, "She's shaking." 

He remembered when he was on his first trip. He admitted sheepishly that he had been a little was scared before Ron had approached him and turned his anxiety into pure excitement. 

Without second thought he opened the compartment door and they all walked in. The girl almost jumped and looked at them nervously. 

"Hi," Harry smiled broadly. "A first-year?" 

There could be only one answer to that and the girl gave it, looking nervous and the slightest bit ill. "Yes." 

"I'm Harry," Harry introduced himself politely and smiled once again. 

Ron taking note of Harry's example and his mother's teachings, did the same. "I'm Ron." 

The girl didn't look relieved at all. _Maybe she's afraid of boys, Hermione thought. Or perhaps she's Muggle born. Or first time without parents. Or everything in between._

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger," she presented herself and sat down opposite the girl. Then she sent Harry and Ron a meaningful look. It was a miracle that they realized what she wanted and sat down too. Hermione didn't want to give the girl the impression that they were dominating. They were older and bigger and male. Enough to scare a timid little girl. 

And she was little, Hermione noticed. Much smaller than a regular eleven-year old; she seemed to be drowning in her ill-fitted black robe. If they met elsewhere, Hermione wouldn't give her more than nine. The girl had long, black hair, clear blue eyes and pale complexion. She was cute, in a childish sort of way. 

"I'm...Aurelia. Aurelia Winters," the girl choked out, wishing they would go away. 

"Nice to meet you, Aurelia. You are terribly nervous, aren't you?" Hermione went for a direct approach and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. 

Aurelia was not going to deny it. She knew she wouldn't fool anyone. She was becoming good in hiding her real feelings, but not this time. She tried to smile, but it came out in a sort of a terrible grimace. 

"A little, yes." She saw she wouldn't escape the small talk. Perhaps it would be for the better. She wouldn't have to think of what happened. She wouldn't have to be careful not to close her eyes and see the terrifying pictures. Or concentrate on the sounds of the train so she wouldn't have her ears filled with screams of pain. 

But she would have to work hard not to reveal that she didn't belong here. 

"It's not that scary," Hermione smiled once more. "I remember I was very excited on my first trip. It turned out much better than I could have expected. Don't worry, you will make a lot of friends." She hoped her babbling would calm the frightened girl. "Some of the students, especially Slytherins, don't like Muggle-borns, but they are minority, I assure you." She didn't tell how nasty this minority could be. 

Aurelia, instead of relaxing, stiffened. "I am not Muggle born. And my father was a Slytherin," she said coldly, suddenly a different person in the face of the inintended insult. 

"Oh?" Hermione didn't know what to say. "I didn't mean to...well, you were so nervous that I thought the only reason would be that you don't know much about the school." She felt strange, explaining herself to somebody so much younger. Usually she didn't have to do it, she was Hermione Granger, the smartest witch at Hogwarts. 

"It's all right." Aurelia replied, dismissing the issue somewhat casually as she tried to find some reason why would she be nervous. What was Caia nervous about? And Cassius? 

"It's the sorting thing. What house are you in?" 

"Gryffindor." Harry spoke up for the first time since introducing himself. 

"Yeah, the best house at school!" Ron added with a sheepish smile at his own outburst. He was about to say something about Slytherins when Harry pinched him in the arm. 

"I have an uncle who was a Gryffindor." 

"What house would you like to be in?" Harry asked, curious. 

"I'm not sure. Ravenclaw sounds nice. My Mum was in Ravenclaw." It wouldn't be sensible to tell a bunch of Gryffindors that, according to her father, she was a Slytherin from head to toes. 

"Since your uncle was in Gryffindor, you have a wide range to choose from, judging from your family." 

Aurelia had to smile at that. It didn't matter that she had never met her Gryffindor uncle. "I also had a Hufflepuff grandmother." 

They all grinned at the revelation. Aurelia decided to change the subject, before they begin asking uncomfortable questions. 

"So," she began, trying to say something to appease her nerves. "Can you tell me some stories...?" 

Their stories about life in Hogwarts were designed to cheer her up, and she laughed indeed. Gryffindors weren't that bad, it seemed. Despite her father's words. 

When the train came to a halt however, her good mood was nothing more than a pretense. Hermione, Harry and Ron left her with the other first-years. 

"Hope to see you in Gryffindor!" 

_Not a chance,_ she thought at that. She wouldn't be in any House. 

She begun trembling again. 

_So close,_ she thought, _so close, I can't blow it away now! I can make it! Mum, and Cassius and Caia... I had no other choice! Even if everybody is going to be furious with me._

She followed the crowd, not noticing the gasps of other students, not seeing the wonders of Hogwarts. She focused on staying away from Hagrid's sight. Nothing probably would happen if he noticed her; he didn't know her, didn't know of her -- but better safe than sorry, she reasoned in her mind. 

Professor McGonagall was much more terrifying than she had imagined, so she hid behind another student's back. She just had to get inside, find him and tell him everything that happened. And he would make everything all right. 

Finally the door to the Great Hall were opened and all new students begun talking, amazed, entranced, surprised at the sights. 

Aurelia looked around, at the four long tables with an incredible amount of people at them, eyes slowly meandring to the teacher's table in the head of the hall. She had never seen so many people in one place. She was scared out of her wits. Why, oh why, did Mum and Dad so rarely let her leave their house grounds? 

McGonagall begun to explain the Sorting Ceremony. Aurelia was looking around panicked. Where was he? He was supposed to be there! 

Her gaze drifted over Hermione, Harry and Ron, who were smiling with as much assurance as they could muster, but it did little good. 

_Where was he?_ She was scanning the surroundings frantically. 

There! The relief made her burst with tears. She found the rest of her energy and flew to the familiar, black-clad figure, choking with uncontrolled sobs. 

The attention of entire hall was turned form the first person walking up to the Sorting Hat to a little girl running towards Professor Snape. The students had never seen him quite so shocked. 

"Aurelia, what is this supposed to mean?" The underlying fury in Snape's voice made Aurelia stop in fear. 

"I'm sorry, Dad, don't be mad at me..." she sobbed as her emotions let loose, "I... had to... you said not tell anyone... they had masks... Cassius was screaming, and Mum, and Caia, and I was so scared, and I took Caia's robe..." The words were flowing chaotically, she just couldn't control herself anymore and try to make sense. 

Shock and fury on Snape's face changed into horror. He picked up Aurelia in his arms and she locked her hands behind his neck, finally feeling safe. 

"...and, Daddy... bring them back!..." 

Snape held her tightly when he looked up at Dumbledore, ignoring astonished looks from entire staff. He hoped the students were too far away to hear her call him 'Daddy'. 

"Albus, will you allow me?..." he whispered hoarsely and looked to the face of his sobbing daughter. 

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Of course, I will be with you right after I'm finished here." 

At that, Snape rushed out of the Great Hall, with his little daughter crying in his arms. 

***


	2. Part Two

**A/N** Thank you all for reviews. And yes, this story has been up before; I've taken it down for betaing and correcting all the spelling and grammar errors that were more than abundant. Enjoy.

**Nobody Knew**

**Part Two**

***

"You are not mad at me?" his daughter whispered with a frightened look in her eyes. 

Snape regretted every angry word he had ever said to her, every sarcastic comment, every single display of his temper. 

"No, little one, I'm not. You were very clever and very brave, I'm proud of you." _Clever indeed. How was an eight-year old able to leave a heavily protected house, not knowing the spells, and come to Hogwarts, not knowing the way and without raising any suspicion? Dear Merlin, what happened to trigger such an action? _

He handed her a Nerve-Calming Potion with shaking hands. He might use some too; snatches of Aurelias's tale Great Hall suggested... 

"Aurelia, dear..." He stroked her hair gently and looked at her with searching eyes. He spoke very quietly, afraid his voice would break with emotion. He couldn't afford to show his fears now, not to Aurelia. "Would you now tell me what happened?" 

She nodded and her eyes lost focus as she recalled the events of the previous night. 

***

"I want to go too!" Aurelia whined, consumed with envy as she watched her siblings packing everything they would need for school. Cassius' room looked as if a tornado had passed through it; both his and Caia's things were scattered everywhere. 

"You're too young," Cassius groaned, exasperated. "Mum, tell her!" 

Theresa walked into the room, irritation clear on her face, and chastised Aurelia in a voice that expressed her annoyance. "Aurelia, stop pestering them like a three-year old and act your age!" She looked into Caia's trunk and glared at her older daughter. "Caia, what did I say about the books? Hogwarts has a huge library, you don't have to take ours!" 

"But, Mum, what if I want to study at night? Or if the book is restricted?" 

Her stern look intensified. "Some books are restricted for a reason, Caia. Besides you will have friends, for Merlin's sake. You won't have time for constant reading, believe me." 

"And there are always ways to sneak into the restricted section," Cassius added. "Dad once told me that he almost got caught when--" 

"Right!" Caia brightened at her twin's words. "We can always ask Dad for permission to go to restricted section!" 

Theresa rolled her eyes. _Oh Severus_, she thought, _I really don't envy you having to teach those two._ Then she felt a stab of fear. _If somebody finds out..._

She looked once again at her twin children. "Cassius, Caia, we all talked about it. Nobody must know..." 

The twins nodded gravely. "We remember, Mum. And we won't slip, promise." 

Theresa smiled, covering her concern. She wondered if they realized how important it was that nobody knew their parentage. She had an impression sometimes that they treated it like some kind of a game. 

For seven years now she has officially been Mrs. Janet Winters, a widow after Mark Winters, an Auror. Before that, for five years she had been Marianne Savin, working for the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Officially of course. Unofficially, Theresa worked as a researcher for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A very successful researcher to that. Her real persona had been (officially) killed... how long ago was it? Nineteen years. 

She had a lot of practice in hiding and telling lies. Severus was no novice in such a business either. Their children had to be permeated with slyness, it must have been embedded in their genes. 

"You'd better not slip," she whispered to herself and changed the subject to something lighter. "I wonder if either of you are going to make it on the Quidditch team." 

Now it was the twins' turn to roll their eyes in perfect synchronization as only twins could manage. "Mum, it's stupid and boring!" they said unison. 

"It's not!" Aurelia cried. She has only once watched a Quidditch practice, but it was enough to mesmerize her with the sport; she had been a fan ever since. 

"I'm more concerned about the sorting," Caia muttered. It was not her future house that worried her, but the possibility that she might be separated from Cassius. 

"Whichever house you will be in, you will make the best of it," Theresa said firmly. She didn't want to make any predictions but she would bet Caia would be a Ravenclaw. Cassius probably too. He had a strong Slytherin streak in him, but his hunger for knowledge was superior. 

Theresa sighed. It would do them good to be separated and stop being so dependent on each other. "Well, I'm going to miss you here. Who's going to help me now?" 

Caia looked a bit guilty. She was the one who had helped her most, bringing books and looking for the right chapter. "Oh, Mum, I'm sure Aurelia will! She's better in Charms than me, even though she so much younger!" Caia's strength was Potions, which made Severus burst with pride. Of course he would never admit it though. 

Aurelia quickly perked up at the subject. "Of course, I will. It's not as if I would have anything else to do!" 

_Manipulative little thing_, Theresa thought with some affection, _she's trying to make us all feel guilty._ "Now, don't go sulking, Aurelia. You got a wand for your eighth birthday -- a year earlier than Cassius and Caia, may I add -- so you're going to have plenty of things to do, don't you worry." 

"You'd better be careful about her, Mum, or she will change Sonia into a snake in no time!" Sonia was Theresa's rabbit, a very intelligent and helpful creature. Aurelia was known in the family for her fondness for snakes, which was even greater than her father's. A true Slytherin, Severus used to say. 

"I wouldn't do such a thing, how can you accuse me?" The girls' wide-eyed expression was one of an offended innocence. "I would change Caia's robe into something nicer though." 

"What's wrong with them?" Caia asked, puzzled. 

"Caia, really!" The younger girl exchanged knowing looks with their mother. She had inherited Theresa's interest in fashion and it showed even at her tender age. 

"Well, it's a standard school robe," Theresa said regretfully. "They always have been shapeless sacks." 

"Whatever." Cassius was not interested. He played with his wand idly. He just couldn't wait until he would get the proper, authorized training that would allow him to do all kinds of magic. He already knew what he wanted to be in the future. His parents taught him quite a lot, but he was fascinated with transfiguration and the related sciences and Mum was usually too busy to get deep into them and Dad, well, he preferred to work with Caia on Potions. Not that he didn't like Potions; it was be impossible with a Potions Master like Severus Snape for a father. 

"All right," Theresa said. "All packed?" 

The twins nodded. "Yeah." 

"All right, clean your room Cassius... That goes for you too, Caia, I can see your things here, so don't leave yet, and then come to supper. It's late." 

"Why can't Tibby clean?" Cassius asked in a sullen tone. 

"I'm not asking you to do the laundry, Cassius. House-elves have other things to do." 

"Mum, can I go out and fly my broom?" Aurelia asked. 

Theresa nodded at her youngest child. "Just be back for supper. I have a couple owls to send so don't bother me for a while, all of you, understood?" 

With loud, unhappy sighs the twins began to clean the room and Aurelia run outside, broom in her hand. After some consideration she decided to fly over the eastern part of the grounds and to a clearing hidden behind the trees where Cheesie could see her. Granted, Cheesie was not the best judge of flying technique but it was more fun to have something animated to watch her. 

Cheesie was Aurelia's horse. It was finally decided that she was old enough - eight years, ladies and gentlemen - to ride a horse instead of a pony. Aurelia remembered Cassius nagging Dad to give him a hippogriff but he only succeeded in making him angry. Animals were basically the only companions of Theresa's and Severus' children - besides the ever-present nuisance of house-elves. They didn't meet other children and they rarely even left the vast house grounds. 

The entire place, a secluded house and it's surroundings, was jammed with protection spells and hidden magical guards. Nobody could Apparate within. The only way out was by the Floo to Hogwarts (Severus' quarters to be exact and nowhere else) or, least favoured, by foot. Every time Theresa had to go to Ministry or anywhere else she had to walk behind the defences and Apparate from there. 

Aurelia knew that protection was important; she was taught not to speak of her parents if she happened to be among people, not to tell anybody anything about herself, where she lived, what she did. And sometimes she felt as if she was caged. Especially since she had accompanied her mother to a 'business meeting' once. Theresa had to consult something with her colleague in person and, since the colleague was a Quidditch fan, they met at a Quidditch practice. It was one of the most memorable days in Aurelia's short life. 

She was good in flying, much better than Cassius and Caia. But at the moment there was only Cheesie to applaud. She never got bored flying on her new broom (she got it on birthday in January, together with a wand) but it was getting dark. She had to go back for supper. 

When she approached the house, she noticed something strange. There were people around. Not one, not two, but many more. They had long, grey robes and hoods. Aurelia swallowed. They were evil men. Both Mum and Dad told her countless times to be afraid of the men in grey robes and hoods. She had been told to run away if she saw them. 

They were all standing in row in front of the house, with their wands up, muttering spells. They must have succeeded at whatever they were attempting, for they all suddenly lowered the wands and entered the house. Where Mum was, and Cassius and Caia. She ran towards the house. Be careful, she told herself, don't let them see you. When she cautiously slid into the kitchen, first thing she saw was Tibby lying in a pool of blood. And Rikey. She almost tripped over Dillie. 

She felt a scream rising in her throat but something stopped her. It was another scream, from the living room. Breathing hard with fear, she sneaked through the dining room and hid behind the set of flowers, the ancient Babylonian statue of a sphinx (who acted as a guardian of the house; maybe there was enough magic left in him to protect her from being seen), and the wall of smoked glass that separated dining room from the living room. 

She should be running, she knew. But it was too late, and she couldn't even move, frozen with fear, watching the scene before her eyes. 

The grey-robed figures had masks on their faces. They seemed to be focused on Cassius who was writhing on the floor, screaming. One of them was holding Caia, forcing her eyes open with a spell and making her watch her twin's torment. There was no doubt she could feel his pain. Two were holding Theresa. "Now, who?" another asked, presumably the leader. 

"Me, only me, I swear." 

"You're lying. You are specialist in Charms, not Potions. Who?" 

"So hard to believe I'm smart enough to come up with it? Just kill me and nobody would ever do it again!" 

"We do not plan on killing you, Mrs. Winters. Who?" 

The leader turned to Caia. _"Crucio."_

Caia begun screaming and convulsing, like Cassius. 

"Who?" 

"Me." 

"Tsk, tsk, Mrs. Winters, perhaps you have never been under Cruciatus before and you don't know what your children feel right now. _Crucio."_

The horrible screams of three people filled Aurelia's ears. Through a haze she watched her mother, brother and sister being tortured. Cassius hit the edge of the stairs with his head, his blood spilled over the carpet. 

"Who?" 

"All... right, just stop it..." Theresa begged, deathly pale, barely able to talk after the paralysing pain. "Ferguson...Jonathan Ferguson. Just kill... me... now... and leave." 

"We will leave, Mrs. Winters. But as I said, we have no intention of killing you. You're coming with us." 

"I think the boy is dead," came the voice from behind the other's mask. 

"No," whispered Theresa. "Not Cassius, no." 

"Good," said the leader, "finish the girl." 

"No, I told you, I told you!..." 

"Really." The leader replied coldly before turning to his companion. "Well, what are you waiting for?" 

The Death Eater pointed his wand at Caia. 

_"Avada Kedavra."_

Caia's body limped and hit the floor with a loud thud. 

"No, no, no, no--" Theresa was muttering feverishly, but a Death Eater silenced her with a spell. 

"What are we going to do with her?" one of the men asked. 

"I have no clue," the leader said. "Perhaps they need some entertainment for the Dark Revel next week." 

"They usually play with Muggles." 

"Then maybe they want to put her under Imperius. She might be useful. Let's go, we're finished here. Merlin's balls, this house was a fortress." 

"Yeah, we would have never made it without that leak..." 

With that, the Death Eaters passed Aurelia, taking her mother with them. 

It was after some time that Aurelia was able to get out from her hiding place. She rushed to where Cassius and Caia lay. 

"Cassius? Caia?" 

No answer. They both were motionless, lifeless bodies. Aurelia broke into sobs. What now, what now? 

She spotted the fireplace and determination grew within her. _Right. Dad._ She had to go to Dad and he would make them wake up. And he would find Mum. She looked for the ornate container with the Floo powder, but then realized she didn't know the spells. Their fireplace was not connected to the Floo network, and to get to Dad's one needed to know the additional protection spells. No use. 

What was she going to do? She didn't know how to Apparate... 

Then she spotted the trunks beside the couch, ready to be picked up for tomorrow's journey. That was it. The Hogwarts Express. 

She quickly reached for Caia's trunk, and took most of the things out. All the books...no, she had better leave one or two, she would have to look like a student... And she had to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

There was a Portkey Mum used when she was taking one of them to London. She could remember the password, something about the Chimeras. She would land close to the Ministry headquarters, that was not far away from the railway station... Somebody would surely show her the way. 

And her wand, she couldn't go without her wand, what if she had to defend herself? 

Still crying, not even trying to wipe the tears away from her eyes, she took the now-much-smaller trunk and went looking for the Portkey. All the household defences were broken so she wouldn't have problems with getting through them... 

***


	3. Part Three

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**Nobody Knew**

**Part Three**

***

Snape stared at his daughter numbly. So she got to London by the Portkey. She had made her best lost-little-girl impression (not that it was particularly difficult under the circumstances) on the first decent-looking man she saw, gave him a story about being separated from her parents, and got herself escorted to the station. There she managed to convince the man that the couple nearby were her parents (and that must have required a great deal of acting skill on her part) and got rid of him. Then she figured out, all by herself, how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

She managed to get into Hogwarts, without invitation, to tell her father that she had witnessed her family being tortured, then killed or kidnapped. 

He put another cup into her hands. Sleeping Potion this time. She drank obediently.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Will you bring them back?" 

He couldn't even muster a reassuring smile, just watched her drift away into sleep.

Then he let his calm drop. His hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into his skin painfully. But he didn't feel this pain. It was nothing compared to the cold that crept into his heart, changing his insides into little, sharp icicles that stung with every breath.

He had to go. He had to see it himself. With a violent cry he sprung from his chair and caught the container with the Floo powder.

"Incendio!" The fireplace became alive with flames. He threw some powder into them and began the litany of spells and passwords before stepping through. 

The living room of his house was faintly illuminated by the glowing orbs of tainted glass that floated above his head, as usual to the home. Theresa loved to make them for relaxation. 

Nothing was broken. Nothing seemed out of place. He wouldn't guess that something horrific happened here, just by looking around the living room. Until he looked down. 

"Caia..." 

He dropped to his knees beside her. She looked so peaceful, as she usually did while sleeping. Except now she was much, much paler.

"Caia... my little Caia." He touched her forehead as if the gesture could make her open her eyes. It didn't. He just felt what his eyes didn't want to accept. No warmth of life. 

No more evenings spent over the cauldron with her. She would never exclaim joyously: _"It turned gray! Yes, we did it Dad!" _ Never again would she look at him with disappointment when he tells her not to touch the ingredients or orders her to go to bed. Never again would she cry when he rebukes her harshly for something that hardly even matters to a normal father. Never again would he hear her bicker with Cassius. Never again would she come to him asking to tell her about the Crystal Tower. She won't be there.

He felt hot tears stinging under his eyelids; his hand clutched Caia's robe so tightly his knuckles whitened. 

Cassius, he had to see Cassius. 

Cassius was lying with his face down, with blood drying in his hair. Severus rolled him over to look into his face. It was strained with the lines of pain. Aurelia said he was under Cruciatus for the longest time, Snape recalled. 

He touched his face as he did with Caia. 

It wasn't cold. 

Severus immediately pressed his fingers to the boy's throat. Uneven, weak, barely noticeable, but it was there! Cassius was still alive.

Wiping all grief away from his heart, Severus picked his son up and went to the fireplace. Another string of spells and passwords hastily left his mouth and he found himself in his Hogwarts quarters. 

"Severus, what..." 

Snape didn't even look at Dumbledore on his way out.

"He's still alive... I must get him to Madam Pomfrey..." 

For the next three hours he assisted Madam Pomfrey with tending to his son. He selected potions, helped casting complicated healing spells, anything to keep Cassius from following Caia. 

Finally Poppy announced there was nothing else he could help with and ordered him out with a firm, but kind reprimand. 

"He will live," she said, taking pity on his uncharacteristically unbalanced state of mind. Being informed on Snape's relation to the tortured boy, she couldn't help but wonder how it was all possible. How was that nobody knew. Recalling an image of a reserved but quietly passionate young boy from some twenty-five years before, she smiled at finally having spotted the glimpse of him in a stern and unpleasant man before her. Although it was shame to see what it takes for him to let what she believed was his true personality surface. 

Snape returned to his chambers with Poppy's words echoing in his mind. Cassius would live. As much as he didn't want to leave him, there was still Aurelia to think about. And his wife. 

A sickening feel twisted his guts at the thought of his wife in the hands of Death Eaters. He could still remember how it was before... how he was wondering what he should do to her... how he considered killing her.

He forced himself to take three deep breaths. It was not a good time to dwell on the past. Particularly the past he had confessed and received an absolution for... at least when it came to Theresa. 

He found Dumbledore sitting in the chair beside the bed where Aurelia slept. Blue eyes devoid of their usual twinkle, the old man looked to his young employee. "What happened?" Snape didn't answer as he went to the cabinet, took the strongest whiskey he had and drank without bothering with a glass. Then he flung the bottle to the wall. The sound of glass breaking didn't give him any of its usual satisfaction. Breaking things wasn't going to help this time. Neither was drinking. Nothing was. 

With his hands clenching in his greasy hair, he choked out: "Caia is dead." 

Dumbledore rose from the chair, sympathy Snape couldn't see from behind the curtain of his hair softening the old man's concerned eyes. "I... I am... sorry, Severus." 

"Sorry... You are sorry... What am I supposed to say?!... Caia's dead, Theresa may be too, Cassius barely alive... those protection spells, they were perfect... what have I done wrong...?!"

Dumbledore went closer and grabbed Severus' arms, noticing despair and self-hatred in his black eyes. Much, much greater than the sight nineteen years ago, when he heard Severus' confession.

"This is not your fault, Severus!" 

"I should have never... If Theresa dies too..." 

"This is not--" 

Severus shook Dumbledore's hands off him. 

"Yes, it is!" he hissed, as if daring the Headmaster to question his responsibility further in an attempt to have somebody to fight against.

"How?" the old man was trying to pour some reason into the raving lunatic in front of him, if it was even possible in such a situation. "Tell me how?" 

Severus repeated Aurelia's story. The last words came in exhausted pants. "If I didn't give the Ministry those damned potions through Theresa... They would have never known, they would have never gotten to her, Caia would be alive... Theresa, oh Merlin, Theresa... I need to find her... " Snape moved to the door.

"Where are you going, Severus!" 

Snape turned around, his eyes surprisingly clear. Of course, Dumbledore realized, nobody had this ability to act upon any circumstances like Severus. He's set out to do _something._ "To Malfoy's. Before Draco manages to inform him about today's events and blow my cover."

"It won't happen," Dumbledore assured him tiredly. 

"It won't?" Snape's right hand unconsciously stretched in the direction of the Great Hall. "Even if the students were to far away to hear, they still saw everything. How am I going to explain that?" 

"I cast Obliviate on the entire Hall." 

Severus simply stared. Firstly, the Headmaster believed firmly in non-interference in the human mind. Secondly, _entire Hall...?_

"But that's not..." he paused. What was impossible for him or anybody else didn't have to be impossible for Albus Dumbledore. "Thank you... thank you," he whispered. "I'll be able to do some planning... and take care of Caia... the full moon is in five days..." Having something realistic to think of was slowly returning him to the world of sanity. 

"Full moon? Severus, you surely are not going to go through with this superstition..." 

"Of course I am, Albus!" he snapped with the sharp reply. "I won't let her go without the Ritual! She's my daughter!"

He was going to say a great deal more, but seeing Albus' incomprehensible expression, he stopped. No point talking about the Ritual with a Gryffindor. Even the Ravenclaws considered it only a way for Slytherins to increase their belief in the importance of the family line and purity of blood. 

Well, perhaps it was, but still he would never let somebody he loved be buried without the Ritual.

Severus looked around, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes fell upon his youngest, sleeping in his big bed, looking so tiny and fragile. 

"What about Aurelia? I can't exactly send her back home... can she stay here?" 

They both knew he didn't mean just next few days. Dumbledore sighed. "She's only eight."

"Nine in January. She's very smart." 

"Are you sure? Perhaps it would be better if you quit... After you find Theresa that is."

Snape laughed mirthlessly. "Easy way out, Albus? No, I will carry on with this masquerade as long as possible. I owe them. And she would be safer at Hogwarts than anywhere else." 

Dumbledore didn't ask whom he owed. Not even the death of his daughter felt a payment enough for Severus. And he was inclined to see everything in categories of debt and payment. 

"All right, Severus, I will make arrangements. She will start school three years early."

Snape considered it carefully. "I will have to talk to both of them. To keep everything secret."

"It's a lot to ask of two so very young children." 

"It means Theresa's life!" Severus snapped, going into the battle mode at the thought of what his wife might be facing this very moment. 

Dumbledore shook his head. "You're their father, Severus, but..." he trailed off, seeing a grimace of pain replace the unreasonable (but entirely understandable) anger. "What is it?" 

The younger man swallowed. "The Dark Mark. It's burning."

***


	4. Part Four

**Nobody Knew  
Part Four**

-

Severus walked through the Hogwarts grounds wondering if he was about to meet his maker. Well, he was about to see his Master, no doubt here, and perhaps lose his life. There was a possibility that Voldemort broke into Theresa's mind – she didn't have many defences against Legilimency. Her Occlumency training was rudimentary at best, nothing to match the power of Voldemort. In that case the Dark Lord knew he was a traitor and Theresa was probably dead. As would he be in the few hours. 

But there was also slight possibility that Theresa didn't break, that she remembered the tricks from the past and he was needed for something else. In that case Theresa was probably dead too. Or he would be expected to kill her, like before. 

It was highly unlikely the summons had nothing in common with the raid on his and Theresa's house last night. 

Considering each of the aforementioned possibilities, it seemed to Severus he had two choices. One, he could ignore the summons, live safely at Hogwarts, take care of his children and slowly go insane. Two, he could do his Death Eater duty and either see his wife die or die himself. 

Well, it wasn't really a choice either way.

Shooting a last glance at the Hogwarts Castle, the bastion of relative normalcy in the world he had chosen to leave in, before entering the Dark Lord's realm, he Disapparated.

-

The gloom of the huge main hall of Sailstone Castle greeted him along with the speculating looks from several Death Eaters standing next to the Voldemort's throne. Snape knew those looks well. They were searching for weakness, for any sign that would degrade him in the eyes of their master, for any chance they could replace him as one Voldemort's trustees. Every each one of them would happily stab him in the back has it not been for his terrible reputation. They all heard what Severus Snape could do to if someone happened to fail in their little game. The precedence of Marisa Wilkes was a legend already. 

"Master." Severus bowed to the Dark Lord, his tone one of adoration and total submission. "What do I owe the honour to be called to your side?" 

Voldemort didn't answer. Instead he snapped his fingers and one of the Death Eaters Snape didn't recognise came into the hall dragging somebody behind him.

Severus barely recognised her. Her black hair, usually twisted into elegant, shiny knot, was now a filthy mess and her translucent skin was of a sickly bluish shade. Her face was lined; he knew it was the effect of the Cruciatus Curse and he had almost clenched his hands into fists before reminding himself who was watching. Her crystal blue eyes were empty, unfocused pools of pain. 

It took all his self-control to look at her indifferently, not to go running to her, take her into his arms and try to comfort her. Then he realised she didn't even blink with recognition upon seeing him. 

_What had they done to her?_

He managed to slow his heartbeat to almost normal pace, and half-expecting to hear a triumphant laughter or a mocking hiss, looked up at the Dark Lord questioningly, meticulously wiping any dangerous emotions off his mind and schooling his thoughts into the slight confusion the situation demanded.

Voldemort's white hand caressed the head of an enormous snake, slithering up and down his 'throne'. Even in Severus' days as a loyal Death Eater, despite his fondness for serpents, Nagini had the characteristic of making him shiver. Nagini had a quality about him that no other animal, magical or otherwise, possessed. This quality was pure, unadulterated evil. It was not any animal's nature to be evil. Animals could be dangerous and vicious as was required for survival in the harshest of environments, but not evil. Except for Nagini that is.

"We need your expertise, Snape." 

Expertise? They needed his _expertise?_

Allowing just a hint of curiousity to his face, Severus answered as best as possible. "My knowledge is at your disposal, Master." 

"This woman," Voldemort gestured to Theresa, "is -- or rather was -- a researcher for the Ministry of Magic. She appears to have invented several complicated and detrimental potions. Very detrimental indeed." The Dark Lord's voice reverberated through the otherwise silent hall with it's hearty timber that could send one to their grave with the right utterance of syllables, and that was enough to make Severus' spine shiver. 

Once more answering in a tone of indifference Severus' could hardly manage a glance towards his wife. "Why is she alive then, my lord?" 

"You always have been such a straight-to-a-point person, Snape... One of the reasons you are so effective..." Voldemort chuckled in a way that was chilling and hardly merry or jolly as one would often expect. "Her record doesn't indicate such aptitude when it comes to potions... yet, she swears that the potions that cost us so much losses lately are of her own making... which you have to verify. We were unable to locate the man by the name she has provided us with and thus ensuring us that even in the face of death of her children she can be a liar. If she is indeed such a talented potion-maker, we might make a good use of her." 

Snape understood immediately. It was not the first time he was supposed to evaluate the usefulness of another scientist. The procedure included the subject making the potion or casting a spell or performing some other kind of magic and him testing the results provided. In fact it was one of the very few activities he actually enjoyed as a Death Eater, if such a thing could ever be possible any more.

He smiled with an effort. "It will be a pleasure, Master." 

Voldemort didn't know. He didn't know. Theresa didn't let the Dark Lord access her mind or she managed to fool him – either way an impressive feat – and they didn't kill her. It was almost beyond belief. 

The wheels in his minds were turning furiously. It was his chance. If he found a way to stay with Theresa alone, if he managed to help her snap out of her trance (which he now recognised as an effect of Imperius Curse), they could try to leave the castle and Disapparate. But he wouldn't be able to break the Imperius cast by Voldemort himself... he had to find a way to get her released. 

"When you are finished we have some other business to talk over..." Voldemort dismissed him with a wave of hand. 

Snape followed a Death Eater, (Roderick Green, a Slytherin, graduated six years ago, excellent with potions, Severus remembered) to the laboratory. Green was dragging Theresa behind him, although she didn't resist. They entered a windowless room filled with glimmering vials and steaming cauldrons. _Almost like home,_ Severus thought morbidly, _even my wife is with me. _

Under Green's attentive gaze he came to the table where six vials awaited for the examination. Green filled him in about what kind of potions Theresa was supposed to make and where he himself had failed to recognise the concoctions. It appeared that Green was able to confirm the identity of four of them, the more simple ones, but didn't know how to proceed with the rest. 

Looking to the vials, Severus mentally ticked off each name without any real effort. Anti-Veritaserum. Severus biggest achievement in several years (it was a material for a Faustus Award -- a magical equivalent of a Nobel Prize -- if it could see the light of the day). Not perfect yet but he was working on it. New Memory-Alternating Potion, good for inducing fake memories in whatever purpose it could serve. Resistance Potion, such that increased the natural ability to resist the Imperius Curse. Extra strong Numbing Potion, which helped to go through the aftermath of Cruciatus more simplistically. The Boomerang Potion which, combined with several charms, caused the drinker's wand to always come back to its owner. The Leeching Elixir which allowed one to draw out the strength of another person by a mere touch. The last one qualified fully as Dark Arts, but the Ministry was willing to overlook the fact. 

All the potions were soon to become a standard Auror equipment.

Severus took the tools and ingredients and began the testing, painfully aware of Theresa's blank stare on his back. If only she wouldn't remember... but Imperius didn't make people forget what they did under the influence. 

After four hours he was done. Theresa managed to make only two of his recent inventions correctly, the Boomerang Potion and the Memory-Alternating Potion. The other four were close enough for him to fix them, although he dreaded to leave even those small amounts for the Death Eaters to use. Especially Anti-Veritaserum and Leeching Elixir. Green didn't notice anything suspicious however, and Severus was thankful for such. 

When he returned to the hall, he noticed that there were more people around than four hours ago, about fifteen of them – the recruiting must have gone better than anyone suspected. They were standing in the large semi-circle around the Dark Lord's stone throne. He stepped into the circle, Roderick Green with Theresa right behind him. 

_Careful, be careful, _he warned himself when he stood before the Dark Lord again, his head bowed respectfully. "She seems to be telling the truth, Master. The potions are correct, as far as my experiments can tell. I believe she might be indeed a useful addition to our cause." 

Voldemort seemed to be considering his words. "Good. Take her away." 

Severus heart almost stopped. _Now or never, you must do it._ "Master..." 

"What is it?" There was a hint of irritation to Voldemort's icy tone and Severus felt sweat run down his spine. He was probably about to be hit with Cruciatus for the next sentence, but it had to be done. 

"It might be," he searched for the word that would not infuriate the Dark Lord too much, "desirable... to release her from Imperius. As you know, Master, creativity is so severely infected by that curse that she would not be able to come up with anything new... she would just reproduce what she already knows..." 

If that little display of lack of trust in Voldemort's omniscience was to have some painful repercussions, it would have happened by now. Severus almost sighed with relief as Voldemort waved his wand at Theresa.

Her eyes cleared and he saw a flicker of recognition in them. Just a flicker and her face once again became a painfully blank mask. 

"My Potions Master says that your efforts proved to be of some value." Voldemort's cold voice echoed against the stone hall. "You may yet save your life by complying..." 

"Never! Death first!" 

Severus closed his eyes at that. _Death? And what about me? _But he could understand her. If he was sure that all his children were dead... and he was ordered to participate in atrocities... _Fight, my love, fight! _

"Death?" Voldemort laughed. "You soon will be praying for death if you don't comply... Severus?" 

Snape clenched his teeth. It couldn't be happening... Merlin why him? Why again? 

_"Crucio,"_ he whispered. 

Theresa's body convulsed in pain and his heart wrenched. He had to go to her, tell her not to give up, to fight, tell her that he would get her out of here... somehow. 

He lowered his wand and forced an evil, twisted grin to his lips. He approached Theresa slowly, making it a big show for everybody to see. He crouched next to her and tossed his hair back, arrogantly. Her eyes filled with fear as he run one finger along her jaw in a cruel parody of tenderness.

"Fight it, Theresa, fight it. I will get you out from here," he said in a low voce, so that only she could hear. Then he laughed sensually. 

His laughter evoked more than one chuckle from the assembled Death Eaters. 

"You have always been the biggest slut among us, Snape," somebody commented. He sounded like Macnair, but the echo of the hall and the mask distorted voices a little and Severus wasn't sure. It would mean that Macnair, together with Lucius Malfoy managed to wriggle out from the Aurors' clutches.

Theresa shivered at his touch, but not with the usual pleasure. 

"Don't... Don't do this to me... " Her eyes filled with tears and he understood that if he went through with it, everything between them would change beyond repair. There must be another way, than claiming her for his pleasure... 

He stood up. "Ah, but you would like that, wouldn't you... _Crucio!"_ Again, she begun screaming, but her eyes held gratitude. They could go together through physical pain, but not... _that._

Severus turned to Voldemort. "She will comply, Master. I would suggest she starts working now... and I will check on her progress at the Dark Revel." 

"Yes, the Dark Revel." Voldemort focused his gaze on Theresa's limp, barely breathing figure. "She might be an excellent example that not only Muggles and Mudbloods should be afraid of me, but everybody who defies me. Yes... after the Dark Revel she won't as much as think of defying me, will she, Severus?" 

Snape gave just a smile as an answer. He couldn't form any words. So she would be another toy at the Dark Revel... even if she survived it, she would not be the same. 

Another snap of fingers on the Dark Lord's part and Theresa was out to the laboratory with Roderick Green. The clean efficiency of it seemed out of place in such a dirty and detestable atmosphere that surrounded him. 

_I have time only to the Dark Revel,_ he thought before inquiring: "What is the matter you wished to talk over with me, my lord?" "Dumbledore, of course." Business as usual. Snape stepped into the small circle and played the role he had become so good at. One part of him silently vowed something that Voldemort would rather not appreciate. _I will get you out of here, my love. Even if I had to use the darkest of Dark Arts. _


	5. Part Five

**Nobody Knew  
Chapter Five**

***

It was almost dawn when Snape entered his chambers at Hogwarts. Dumbledore wasn't there anymore; Severus could only hear Aurelia's even breathing. She didn't even stir; the Sleeping Potion had a better effect on somebody not used to it. 

He would have to find the Headmaster before involving himself in illegal activities again. He was not going to tell him what he was about to do, but to remind himself about the boundaries he intended to step over. Just to make sure he didn't go further than necessary. Which was a lot. 

He watched Aurelia's face. She resembled Theresa more than himself, but then Theresa and him looked quite alike, to a point that some people took them for brother and sister. Fortunately, Aurelia didn't inherit his large nose. Only Caia did. 

Caia. 

The memory of his other daughter came back painfully to him. She was most like him of all his children, in looks, talent and character. She wasn't as sarcastic, manipulative and set to control everything (as were Cassius and Aurelia), but she was quiet, studious, enjoying mostly books and the lack of company never bothered her. And she was very talented with potions. Aurelia's enthusiastic hugs whenever he was back home were a balm on his soul, but the happy gleam in Caia's eyes was special. Caia and him were the two of a kind. 

His little Caia. 

Snape felt tears threatening him again.

Still, no time for grief, he reminded himself in a tone of underlying regret. He didn't think he would be able to mourn properly until he had Theresa by his side. He couldn't deal with any emotion without her, it was a fact he knew well enough by now. 

Without Theresa he was an emotional cripple, unable to feel the positive and unable to express the negative. All emotions would be bottled in, interacting within his heart, slowly turning into a poisonous mixture, bringing him to the brink of madness. 

He had to bring her back, for his own sake and for the sakes of all those around him. His children especially. No matter what the cost, he had to bring her back. 

With this thought he went to the Hospital Wing. Cassius was still unconscious and probably would remain so for another day or two. The Cruciatus, having been inflicted for a long time, could have the most severe effects; it was enough to look at the Longbottoms in St. Mungo's and have example of such effects. Snape hoped the experience wouldn't affect Cassius mental state that much. Cassius was a very strong boy, the strongest of the three, but he was only eleven. According to Madam Pomfrey, his bad physical state was mostly due to the hit on the head, not the Cruciatus, but what the curse had done to his psyche remained to be seen. 

"How is he?" 

Madam Pomfrey sighed, but didn't dare to offer any comfort. Snape was not the one to be grateful for comfort, never had been, even as an eleven year old. 

"Better. He's recovering." 

"So his physical state is good?"

"Satisfactory. Nothing endangers his life now. He just needs to rest and his head needs to remember how to work again." 

"Good." 

Snape sat on the chair and focused on Cassius. The boy was not pale anymore, his skin returned to its natural colour. A good sign and a relief that what had to be done wouldn't cause too much damage. Snape looked up at the mediwitch. He hated to give the impression of vulnerability, but it was for the greater good. 

"Would you leave us, Poppy?" 

She smiled understandingly and left.

Now alone, Snape took out a vial from his pocket. It was rather large, as the vials went. Then he picked small knife from one of the tables. It was used before to prepare one of the healing potions. 

"I'm sorry, son," he said quietly, "but it's necessary. You would understand."

He immobilized Cassius' left hand and cut his forearm deeply. Watching the blood stream into the vial he monitored the boy's pulse. It was strong, but began to be erratic again. He needed just a little more...

When the vial was full, Snape healed the gash with a spell. He was not a mediwizard or a Healer (quite the contrary) but the spell was simple enough so that Poppy would never know. 

"It really is my best chance, Cassius," he said. He knew the boy couldn't hear him but he felt compelled to explain himself anyway. Cassius was Caia's twin and, with Severus using his blood, would sense his father's actions. "I can't bring Caia back, but I can try to save your mother. You understand, don't you?" 

He wasn't so sure. What if Cassius wouldn't understand? What if Theresa wouldn't? Snape shook his head. He would deal with it later, afterwards. He wasn't going to change his mind now. 

Dumbledore was sitting in his office. The lack of sleep showed on his face and the twinkle was gone. _He's old,_ a thought crossed Severus' mind, not for the first time. 

"Can I help somehow, Severus?" 

"No." 

"Would you at least tell me what you are planning?" 

"No." He had to fight hard to keep all guilt away from his face. He had promised Dumbledore never to go back to _that_ again. The older man trusted him and he was about to break this trust. It was fortunate that Dumbledore, being a fundamentally good person, didn't automatically expect the vile acts from the people he trusted. 

"Severus, I don't mean to pry..." 

"Then don't." 

"You don't want my help, you don't want my advice. What are you doing here Severus?" 

"You will have to reschedule my Potions class. I will be gone at least for two days." 

"Of course." 

"And... make sure Cassius and Aurelia are all right. If I don't come back..." 

"I will." 

There were chances he wouldn't come back alive. And even greater chances that he would succeed but end up straight in Azkaban. 

_Whatever._

"Do you want me to take care of Caia?"

"No!" _Gods, don't ask any more! One more inquiry and my self-control will crack and you will know... and you will try to stop me. _

Dumbledore looked puzzled at Snape's violent outburst. "I thought it was important. The Ritual and all. I would... prepare her."

Snape felt the drops of perspiration on his back. "No, Albus. If I don't come back in... a week, let's say, you may do what you think is right. But not earlier." 

"But the full moon is in four days now, and Caia's..." He didn't finish the word 'body' but Snape flinched anyway. He realized that Dumbledore was in his I-will-help-you-whether-you-want-it-or-not mode. 

"I prefer to do it myself, Albus. I will go home now and put several charms on her and go through the Ritual when I'm back with Theresa." 

He closed his mind like an oyster and only hoped not one thought or emotion leaked out for Dumbledore to pick up. _Don't let him make it out, don't let him make it out. Let him him think it's all the Slytherin superstition and a father's need of personal involvement. _

"As you wish, Severus. Just... be careful."

Snape smiled grimly. "I will." 

When he returned back to his chambers, Aurelia was still asleep. He went to the store-room and took the ingredients for the potions he needed to brew. Each of those potions could get him sacked or earn him a sentence in Azkaban. He hoped he wasn't out of practice. 

He stepped through the fireplace with a handful of small jars and vials, as well as the books on runes and ancient dialects. The amulets he needed he kept at home. 

***

Nothing was different about the house since that moment last evening. Even though he braced himself for the sight, seeing Caia hurt even more than before. Now he was painfully aware that she was indeed dead, that there was no hope. 

He put the ingredients on the table and went to his daughter's body. Taking a deep breath he lifted her and whispered to her, "I need your help, Caia. Forgive me, but I do have to do it." 

He positioned her in the middle of the floor, with her hands spread wide and then placed her wand in her left hand. He found it on the floor; Caia must have dropped it when she was attacked. 

The directions in the old volume were clear and mostly familiar. He closed the book, revealing the title: 'Necromancy Rites - the Rising and the Transfer'. He was in possession of one of the world's three copies. He could still remember how he burst into Aunt Sylvia's chambers, reducing and hiding from his father as many volumes as he could. Sometimes he wished he never had time to save anything. 

Necromancy, the darkest of Dark Arts. Practicing it was strictly forbidden all over the wizarding world. And he was so very talented in it; Aunt Sylvia would have said it was a second family talent. If there was an official ranking for the knowledge on the subject, he would be a Master. Although he has never attempted Transfer with himself as a Provider before, he used to perform it on others frequently enough to know what to expect. 

Concentrating on the mechanics and technique, he begun to proceed with the movements he thought were long forgotten. Not at all - old habits die hard. 

_Draw two Pentagrams around the subject, one with white chalk, the second with black coal. Draw a star in each corner of the Pentagram. Draw the runes. Write the sentences along the lines of the Pentagram in ancient Persian and Hebrew. Place the amulets. Brew the potions. Prepare the special candles and light them in the specific order. Splash this potions around the subject, that potion on the subject; this one on yourself and drink the last one. _

He worked quietly, keeping his mind on Theresa instead of Caia, taking no notice of the time. After couple of hours everything was ready. Caia was lying surrounded by runes, amulets and candles that were smelling intoxicatingly. 

Severus knelt at her head with a ritual goblet of black glass in his hand. The potion in the goblet would make most of wizards back away with fright. 

Now the spells. He began muttering them, switching between the ancient languages. Greek, Latin, Persian, Hebrew, Gaelic, Egyptian, Babylonian, Phoenician and so on. Each spell must have been repeated in at least ten languages, most of them in specific order. 

When the double Pentagram begun to glow with the pale silver light, and when the colourful smoke from the various candles begun to swirl around the two human figures, Severus knew it was time. 

He put Caia's one hair into the goblet and emptied the vial with Cassius' blood. The potion begun to seethe although there was no heat applied. One swift slice through his own arm and his blood dripped into the mixture, causing it to change colour to complete black. 

"Sanguine et Venificio hoc corpus me admittere iubeo." His dispassionate whisper seemed to freeze the air; in an almost tangible silence he drank the content of the goblet. Immediately, the smoke's swirl intensified, changing into a furious, mind-numbing visual storm, standing in sharp contrast to the lack of any sound. With the world dancing around him, desperate for breath, Snape bent and touched Caia's forehead with his own. 

The surge of pain that went through him was an almost welcome relief from the unnatural stillness that overcome the world around him. All spirits of all dimensions seemed to come to an abrupt halt upon his sacrilegious command. Was this death? This emptiness...? He had never bothered to ask any of the ghosts he once invoked... 

The pain was a good sign, he remembered. It meant everything went all right. Couple more hours of this torment and it would be over... for a while. The pain was rising and retreating. One moment it was gripping his entire body, another it attacked only some parts. Finally, Severus blacked out. 

***

Unsurprisingly, it was the pain that woke him up. His head was spinning, every single cell of his body ached. The faint light of almost burnt-out candles was hurting his eyes. 

He sat up from where he was lying and looked down on his hands. 

_I did it. _

His hand's were small and delicate, thin blue veins running under thin skin, bitten fingernails. No Dark Mark on the forearm. Caia's hands. He turned around and saw his own body, curled up on the floor on the edge of the Pentagram, lifeless. 

He felt his... Caia's... mouth twist in some kind of expression. Not a smile, but he didn't have time to analyze what he was feeling. He reached for his wand with his right hand, holding Caia's in his left. Strange, they _both_ felt so comfortable and familiar. 

Clutching the wands he left the house. It was warm but he didn't feel it. There was a wind blowing, but he didn't feel it. He pinched his arm. Nothing. 

Yes, he did it... May the gods forgive him. 

***


	6. Par Six

Nobody Knew(06) 

**Nobody Knew  
Part Six**

***

Theresa was sitting on the floor, with her back against the cold stones of the wall. The cell was small and windowless while the overbearing smell of mold and must hang in the air. She didn't care. More than anything she wanted to sleep now. Sleep, wake up and see that everything that happened in the last two days was nothing but a nightmare. Wake up from this miserable situation. She had thought the days of peril were long past her. She had thought they were safe. She had been careful, she kept low profile, she worked in secret, she raised her children quietly. She failed. It all seemed so seamless and incongruous now. 

She failed Severus. She failed her children. 

And there she was, telling them not to slip. Where did _she_ slip? Where? She kept her mouth shut, always. Her colleagues thought her an eccentric scientist and learned long time ago not to ask any questions. She wouldn't say a word or she would give a very ambiguous answer that could simultaneously mean anything and nothing. Where did her caution waver? 

She mentally shrugged at the question and hardly noticed the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Where? Who? Why...? Why the children...? 

Cassius. Caia. Aurelia. 

Images returned to her, deepening the pain. Cassius blood spilled on the carpet. Pain on Caia's face. She didn't want to imagine what they did to Aurelia. They enjoyed it. She saw it in their eyes, behind their masks, heard it in their voices. 

Why did she leave her wand in the laboratory? Why didn't she check the safety before she let Aurelia outside? Why didn't she take children to London earlier? Why did she tell them not to bother her? They must have noticed something... 

She caught her hands on her filthy hair, resting her elbows on her knees. The numbness passed. There was only pain, only grief, only desperation. 

Caia, Cassius, Aurelia. Aurelia, Cassius, Caia. Cassius, Aurelia, Caia. 

She repeated the names in her mind like a mantra. Though rather than a focus of relief, it worsened the pain. She knew she should focus on something else to keep her sane, but right now she didn't care about sanity. What for? 

_For Severus,_ a little voice echoed in her head, the voice that belonged to that part of her that wanted to live. 

_For Severus? Severus was strong. He would go on without her. He did it once, he would do it again,_ another part of her retorted, determined to give in to pain and slide into the abyss of oblivion. 

_No, he didn't. He wouldn't again. He would regress to his former self, terrifying, consumed with hatred. Concentrate, Theresa..._

_On what? On revenge? It is Severus' domain. To me it is worth so little...._

_On Severus. Don't let the revenge be his only reason for living. Don't let him become what he once was._ He also lost all he loved most. Except her. They still had each other. 

Theresa broke into desperate sobs, rocking back and forth. She had to fight. Severus told her to fight. He begged her to hold on. She saw the pleading in his eyes. She failed as a mother, she wouldn't fail as a wife. 

The door opened with a low crack and she looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes with a sleeve of her torn robe. Was it time to work again? What did they want now? 

"I thought you are dead..." She heard a slightly trembling voice. A familiar voice, once so full of life, now weak and filled with amazement. 

Theresa narrowed her eyes, seeing anything in the dim dungeon without glasses and through tears took some effort. The figure in front of her removed the grey hood and she saw the face. It took her several moments to settle the features onto the younger face, to erase the wrinkles, to add a couple of pounds, to absorb several grey streaks in once-blond hair. Her eyes widened. It's impossible... 

"Peter?" 

"Hi." He tried to smile but didn't quite manage it. 

She jumped to her feet. "So it's true?!" she cried in horror. "It's true?!" 

There was no answer and he looked away, as if ashamed. 

"And I didn't want to believe when Se... when I was told you're... you were... you and..." Inside her, hysteria fought with the cold shock. She didn't know that this betrayal could hurt so much. "Why, Peter, why? How could you?" 

He now looked her straight in the eye and she saw a glimpse of old Peter. Peter who used to ask her for help with Charms assignments, who knew what to say to prevent her from singing, who bought her ten pounds of transfiguration glass for birthday, Peter who warned her that Sirius Black was not going to give up on his invitation to the Hogsmeade, who thought it was necessary to defend her from the epitome of Slytherin evil, Severus Snape. What happened with this loving, if not often understanding, brother? 

"I thought you were dead." He made it sound like an explanation. 

"I don't understand, Peter," she whispered in reply. It was like they were back to Hogwarts, to the worst of their relationship... when he was trying to explain and she thought the explanation was not good enough... It wasn't good enough back then to justify his betrayal, it wasn't good enough now. 

"I thought Snape killed you. I had to... avenge you. I had to get back at him, at them, all of them. It was their fault..." And again he looked away. 

Theresa stared at him, trying to force the hazy numbness out of her mind. She had no idea what to feel. Should she be touched at the strength of his feelings for her? Or should she be angry that he was trying to blame her? And what did he mean 'all of them?' All the Death Eaters? "That's no excuse!" 

"I suppose... suppose not," he whispered miserably and she saw a chance in those words. She came closer and put his hands on his arms awkwardly. It felt so strange to touch somebody she thought long dead, even if Severus reported to her all revelations about Peter. She accepted them intellectually, but her heart and emotions were detached, as if she was still thinking about a dead person who no longer mattered. She thought she had known him. They had their differences, they were not always on the best terms with each other, but... this? Seeing him now forced her to face the facts. And try to salvage her memories. 

"You don't like being one of them, Peter," she said softly, trying to catch his eye. "You can still go back!" 

He shook his head. "I can't." 

"Yes, you can! Listen, Peter..." 

"It's impossible, Theresa and you know that. Who would--" 

"I would!" 

He gave her a short, resigned laugh and tears fell from his eyes. "It would never be what it once was. You were never a particularly forgiving person, if I remember correctly. You've never forgiven Black, have you?" 

He was right. But she had forgiven Severus. "Black was not my brother! You can make amends, I know people who did terrible things and were able to earn forgiveness and respect! You could too! Peter, just help me out of here and I--" 

"I... I can't, I'm sorry... It would never work out." 

She watched him, speechless for a moment. "You won't help me?" 

"I can't; the Master, he would know. And there are Death Eaters all around the place. I simply can't; it would mean we both die... Can't you just cooperate?" 

She opened her mouth to answer that she would die first than cooperate but no words came out. "Why did you come then? If you don't want to help me?" she choked out. 

"I, um, I wanted to see you, I thought you are dead. I thought Snape killed you. I hated the bastard... how come you're alive anyway...?" 

Dread came over her. Severus. "Peter, does Vol- " She saw him flinch and corrected herself, "Does the Dark Lord know who I am?" 

He stared at her confused. "What do you mean?" The possibility that Voldemort might not know something seemed to be a novelty to him. 

"Does he know I'm your sister?" 

He furrowed his brows. "I'm not sure." 

"Peter, don't tell him, I... I beg you. If he doesn't ask... don't tell." 

"Why?" Well, she was always the smart one in the family. 

"I'm supposed to be dead! I have a different name, I lived a life. If he realizes I escaped death he might want to punish me." And he might want to punish Severus for not carrying out his orders. With a capital punishment. 

Peter run his tongue over his dry lips. "If he doesn't ask, I won't tell. If he doesn't ask." He watched her as she sat down on the floor again, shaking. "I'd better go." 

"See you at the Dark Revel," she said and saw the comment was a hard blow. Well, she had a Death Eater for a husband, she heard what Dark Revels were and knew how they would affect Peter. 

Peter shrank and looked at her from the door. "Theresa, I really... you don't... never...." he stammered, clearly realizing what would she be doing at the Dark Revel. "I'm sorry...." 

She closed her eyes. "Get out Peter. I wish I could hold on to my illusions about you. I wish you were dead." 

He left without the word, his back slouched. Theresa didn't think the ravaging pain in her heart could be any greater, but it was. It had been so good to grieve for an honest, caring Peter. It was so easy to think Sirius Black was a murderer and hate him even more than before. It felt so righteous to think he was serving his sentence in Azkaban. 

And now? Her world was crumbling before her eyes over the last months, bit by bit, until there was nothing left. 

Caia, Cassius, Aurelia. 

Dead. 

Peter... Now dead to her too. 

She had thought she had been through the worst already. She had thought nothing ever would happen she wouldn't be able to cope with. 

She was wrong. 

For the first time in her life she was beginning to understand the choices Severus had made. Not only accept and forgive them, but also understand them. If there was too betrayal, if the pain was too great... the lines would blur, the paths would cross, there would be no right and no wrong... Only the need to crawl into the darkest place imaginable and grieve would remain. 

_Severus._

She still had some light on the horizon. He would get her out of here. She had to think of Severus. The first time she saw him... so long time ago. The first time she kissed him... the day they pledged their lives to each other... yes, she would think of that... 

***


	7. Part Seven

**Nobody Knew  
Part Seven**

***

Severus Apparated in the forest surrounding the Sailstone Castle. Any Muggle would see only the grey, moss-ridden ruins, but he saw the place for what it was: the bastion of dark magic and a stronghold of evil so powerful that it made more sensitive people physically ill. 

He didn't even try to Apparate through the shields raised around the Castle by the Death Eaters most experienced in developing and casting protection spells. He was one of them, therefore he knew he wouldn't manage to break into the Castle unseen. Only the Dark Mark allowed a person Apparate within the walls of the Castle. Caia's body didn't have the Dark Mark. 

He waited, attention focused on the castle looming over the forest. Incredible how much the place reminded him of Hogwarts sometimes and yet, it couldn't be more different. Sailstone was huge and dominated the area, the air around it thick with power and magic. But where Sailstone radiated danger, Hogwarts was surrounded by peace. Sailstone had a stench of evil around it; Hogwarts had a sense of acceptance. 

Nothing was happening, the day turned into an evening. Severus waited. Patience was one of his traits that could be admired. Usually he had it in a short supply, but when something was truly important to him, he could outwait the Great Passing. 

The waiting paid off. Snape, keeping an eye on the shields he knew so well, saw a slight shimmering of the air around the castle. Somebody was in the process of Apparating out. He pointed his wand at the shield and said, _"Apparati Errandum."_

Mark Johnson looked around, confused. Instead of the centre of the Muggle London, he saw the dark line of trees in front of him.What the hell? He heard somebody clear a throat and turned to the side. And stared agape for a moment. 

In front of him stood a little girl, no more than eleven. Tangled black hair framed a deathly pale face with coal-black eyes and a prominent nose. 

Finally, he reacted, raising his wand, but the girl was faster. 

"Immobilarius!" 

Mark couldn't move. "Who the hell are you?" he choked out, still in shock that a child could take down an experienced, twenty seven year old wizard like him. 

"Somebody who needs your help," the girl answered, her high-pitched childish voice strangely dispassionate. 

"Help? What help?" 

"You will Apparate with me into the Castle." 

Mark couldn't help looking at her as if she was mad. For all he knew she must have been, no sane person would want to go to Sailstone except Death Eaters. The girl didn't look like a Death Eater, although those empty eyes... 

"It will take more to force me to do that than Immobilarius," he laughed trying to look confident. 

"Oh?" 

The girl came closer, so close that she was almost touching him with her body. The bizarre thing was that he couldn't feel any warmth. His wand was taken out of his hand and dropped to the ground. She measured him with her eyes and if he was able to squirm, he would have. He couldn't quite recognise the expression on her face, but it was closest to apprehension or disgust. She took his hand in hers and seemed to play with his fingers for a moment. Then he heard a low crack and a surge of agonising heat went through his hand. 

"You little bitch!" he cried, gasping with pain, not being even able to hold his own hand for comfort. "You broke my finger!" 

"Really? How clumsy of me. I would suggest you do what I say and save yourself more displays of my ill manners, and me, time." 

"You won't get away with--" 

Another low crack and another surge of pain. 

"You finished?" 

He didn't answer, too busy coping with the pain. He hadn't realised that a simple broken finger could hurt so badly. 

"All you need to do is Apparate with me." 

Why not, Mark thought. Once inside she will be killed anyway, stupid kid. He would watch her die in pain; he would break all her fingers and listen to her screams. He would watch Macnair working his favourite techniques on her; yes he would help her Apparate. 

"All right, I will. Release me." 

He felt he could move again, and he tried to flinch his finger, which caused waves of pain again. The girl had her wand pointed at him so he subsided the urge to put his hands around her neck and slowly squeeze life out of her. 

"Give me my wand." His demand earned him a mocking raise of an eyebrow from the girl, the first display of an actual emotion from her. 

"You don't need a wand for it. I will do the job, you are just to get us through the wards." 

Being reduced to a tool was rather humiliating, but Mark didn't have much choice. The tip of girl's wand looked no less dangerous than those of adult wizards. The girl clasped his uninjured hand and murmured a sequence of spells. They Disapparated. 

Severus looked around. His spells transferred them into a rarely used corridor of the castle. He waved a wand at his companion. _"Stupefy."_

Mark Johnson dropped to the floor. With a help of an obscure, but surprisingly simple little spell Snape ensured that he wouldn't be able to wake for two days and rushed off. He had an old friend to find. The gathering on the previous night was rather enlightening in some aspects. He knew the names of all six Death Eaters who conducted the raid. Macnair was the leader. The others were young and eager novices, but all talented wizards. They must have been talented to manage to break through the defences. Macnair was the worst though; he was the focus of Severus' anger. The novices wouldn't think of torturing the children in order to break the mother. Or at least they wouldn't think of killing the children which was completely pointless. 

Macnair was a rare specimen of inhuman human. And, ironically, it was his 'uniqueness' that helped Snape to formulate his rescue plan. 

Macnair knew many secrets of the castle, more than Severus, especially since Voldemort's rise. He was in charge of the prison area so he was the person Severus would have to use if he was to get Theresa free. 

Fifty years old Walden Macnair was one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters, right at the top with Lucius Malfoy and Richard Nott. He was not, however, as smart as Malfoy or as coldly confident as Nott. He didn't participate in planning. Macnair was the executive, the chief butcher among Voldemort's followers. He was one of the most twisted, most cruel Death Eaters, second only to Nott, although in Snape's opinion the two of them should share the title. He enjoyed killing more than inflicting pain, as was the case with Nott, enjoyed having the power to end the life. Severus could understand that... there was a time when he used to enjoy that power too. 

But Severus hated Macnair from the first moment he had met him and the reason was Macnair's basic lack of respect for the dead. It was a sin no Necromancer would ever let pass unnoticed. 

All the same, for all his cruelty, for all his knowledge in the Dark Arts, Macnair was a paranoid and superstitious coward. He used to perform all kinds of rituals that were supposed to protect him from physical harm, from losing his power, from being discovered by the enemies, from jealousy of other Death Eaters, from his victims' revenge. The latter was the base of Severus' plan. To act upon Macnair's greatest fear. 

Snape didn't know the dark corridors of Sailstone as well as those of Hogwarts, but well enough not to run into Voldemort or Pettigrew, who was virtually glued to the Dark Lord. He needed only Macnair and this night Macnair was supposed to 'examine' the Muggle material for the Dark Revel. 

The torture room it was. 

Severus pushed the heavy wooden door open; there was no locking ward on it. All Death Eaters were welcomed there for fun. 

Four people raised their heads. They were standing over two other persons. One of them was a young girl, not much more than a child. Young flesh appealed to Macnair. The second was a man of, perhaps, twenty-five, very handsome. A present for Nott probably, he had a taste in men. Severus knew that from personal experience. Both had small cuts on their arms and torsos. Terrified expressions on their faces, however, were telling a much more detailed story than the cuts. And Severus knew that anything they would go through this night was nothing compared to the Dark Revel. 

As Macnair and Lawrence Sales froze, trying to place the familiar face they had in front of them, the other two Death Eaters simply stared at him in utter amazement. Their surprise was even greater than Mark Johnson's, but the question remained the same. 

"Who the hell are you?" 

Severus made a superhuman effort to keep his face and voice impassive as he gestured to Macnair and Sales with Caia's wand. "They know." 

These words seemed to awaken Macnair. "Get her!" he shouted. 

Sales still stared, unable to move, but the other two reached for their wands. It didn't do them much good for Severus raised both hands armed with wands and stupefied them simultaneously. 

Macnair and Sales couldn't believe their eyes. Here she stood, the girl they saw writhing on the floor under Cruciatus, the girl Sales hit with Avada Kedavra, the girl they left _dead_ in the house of that Winters woman. She should be dead! Macnair felt anger overcoming his amazement and fear. Stupid Sales, he can't even cast Avada Kedavra properly! And to think he was holding so much promise! Never leave the killing to the others, even if they are supposed to be initiated! 

A flash of green light emanated from his wand when he shouted, _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The green light hit the little black-haired girl. 

Nothing happened. She stood there like a statue, showing no signs of dying. 

_"Avada Kedavra!" _

Nothing. Slow, cold smile crept to the girl's lips and Macnair went even paler than Sales. What was she that the Killing Curse didn't affect her? 

"Sales did his job well, Walden." The... creature... said in a low, empty voice. "I just refused to go." 

"What do you want?" Macnair asked, his lips almost numb with fear upon hearing his first name. Such familiarity with a... creature... was not something he had ever wished for. 

"Revenge." 

"I didn't kill you!" Macnair cried fervently, gesturing to Sales. "He did!" 

Sales found his voice. "He made me! I didn't want to, remember? I hesitated! It was his fault." 

"It was," the girl confirmed, giving Sales a cursory glance, focused on the older man. "This is why I won't kill you. _Stupefy."_ And Sales was out cold. Black eyes bored into Macnair again. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you and drag you to hell, for all the suffering you caused me and my family." 

"I... I..." Macnair managed in ragged breaths, "I... have your mother! I can save her!" 

This seemed to catch her attention. "Can you?" 

"Yes, yes! I know where she is, I know how to get around the wards! If you let me live, I will free her!" 

Snape let himself a small, victorious smile. Macnair was a fool and a coward, like most of those who enjoyed dominating the weaker. Surprising he managed to go so far in the ranks. 

"All right. Free her. Now." 

"Now? But if somebody--" 

"Now." Severus raised his wand menacingly. 

Macnair cleared his throat, but didn't say a word. He shot a fearful look at his companions lying on the floor, then at the prisoners. They were watching the scene and barely dared to breathe. "What about them?" 

Severus glanced at the prisoners. The girl was just few years older than Caia. _No. Don't think of it. Theresa is important, not some Muggles..._ He looked at them again. 

"You will Apparate them out, together with my mother." 

Macnair didn't argue, although his face showed clearly he didn't like the idea at all. He went to the door. Severus followed him. 

The prison area was in the dungeons. How appropriate. They didn't meet anybody, to Snape's relief. There was no need for spending his precious energy for more stupefying... And stupefying was a spell close to the top of his present capabilities. Transferring into another body ruled the more potent curses out... What a pity. He would simply put somebody under Imperius if he could. But now just maintaining the charade was exhausting enough. He would be paying for it for months. 

Macnair unlocked each door they passed through with a spell. Their multitude surprised Snape. Voldemort has became much more paranoid than fourteen years ago. It would take Severus long hours to break through the protections on his own, even though the wards were one of his areas of expertise. 

When they stopped for the last time, Severus' apprehension reached the state that he was barely able to breathe. The uncertainty of what he would see, and of what Theresa would see, was getting to him. He squeezed tighter the wand he held pointed at Macnair's back. The Death Eater went in and Severus too stepped inside. 

_Slow reaction,_ Snape registered, worried. Theresa's blue eyes turned to him and her face turned ashen. 

"Caia...?" The hope in her voice made Snape's stomach churn. He had to make her realise the facts as soon as possible...no, he had to make her realise now. 

"Yes, Mum, it's me. I told you I would get you out of here, I told you to fight..." He raised his wand so that she could see it, his own wand, not Caia's. Her face turned a sickening greenish colour as the truth sank in and she looked as if she was going to vomit. 

"Come," he said, "let's go." 

She didn't move. Severus' fear grew. She had to snap out of it! Her life depended on it! Both their lives depended on it! 

"There are two Muggles who need to leave before the Dark Revel." 

It worked. Theresa gulped and got up. Her hand shook when she held it out to him. Feeling slightly incredulous, he looked _up_ at her, questioningly. She must have thought the same for the ghost of smile appeared on her face. 

"The wand," she said in a half-voice. Severus handed her Caia's wand and turned to Macnair, who was still watching him in fear, backing away as far as the room let him. 

"Back to the Muggles," he ordered. 

They began to make a hasty way back to the torture room. Severus' walk was getting heavier with every step. Theresa was avoiding looking at him. She was right beside him, but her gaze was on Macnair. 

The Muggles were petrified to see Macnair back. The young girl closed her eyes tightly. 

"Kill us... kill us but don't do _that_ again..."

It was then that Theresa straightened to her full height -- not much of it, but better than her former shrunken form, Snape thought -- and made an effort to look confident and reassuring. 

"He won't do it again. We will take you out of here," she assured them softly, approaching the girl. One easy little charm later the girl and the young man were free from their bonds. "Everything will be all right. Se... send us back, Caia?" 

Snape nodded. "Theresa, take Macnair's hand. You two form the chain with them." 

When the four of them were standing holding each other's hands, Snape clasped Macnair's hand. Now, this little piece of Apparition was going to be somewhat of a difficulty, especially in his present form, but it wasn't impossible. It wasn't far away and, hopefully, they wouldn't all get splinched. 

When Severus saw the forest outside the Sailstone, he knew he Disapparated them successfully. Macnair was looking at him not only with fear now, but also with awe. Good he had no idea how drained Snape was at the moment. He wouldn't be able to Obliviate Macnair on his own. Neither would Theresa, without her own wand. Perhaps together... if she would trust him. He looked at her questioningly, then at Macnair. She understood. They didn't need words to communicate anymore, particularly in such an obvious situation. She nodded. 

_"Stupefy,"_ Severus said and then they both pointed their wands on Macnair's unconscious form. _"Obliviate."_

They looked into each other's eyes for a long time, before a stammering, scared voice brought them back to reality. 

"Whe... where are we?" 

They looked at the Muggles. 

"Let's Apparate them to the Muggle London and Obliviate them," proposed Theresa quietly, deflated. 

"Yes," Severus agreed, feeling he was losing his strength rapidly. "And then let's... go home."

***


End file.
